Happiness In My Hand
by Kirenza
Summary: Peaceful mornings like these weren't wont to appear before Yuri, and he was sure to make it the best that he could. Especially when it was a certain blond-haired man's birthday. Fluri oneshot.


A/N: I've been wanting to write about Yuri making breakfast (or just cook in general), and it was also a friend's birthday recently, so I figured why not combine those two ideas and write a little Fluri drabble about it? It reads kind of fast (at least to me), and I'm not totally satisfied with the ending, but I really enjoyed writing it! Still working on getting their characterizations down, haha. But yes, it's a Fluri (Flynn/Yuri) drabble. Nothing too serious, just some fluff.

* * *

It was strange, feeling a presence at his side when Yuri awoke. Initially he shrugged it off, thinking Repede had merely come to lay beside him on the bed. But as he woke to the morning, he came to question it; the dog never slept at his side like this, except come winter when a chill seeped through the old, peeling plaster walls and creaking floorboards of his room in the Lower Quarter. His eyes eased open to take in the soft morning light that streamed through the window and washed over the floor and walls, warm and inviting. Stretching, Yuri shifted to his other side where he found Flynn's sleeping form, shoulders rising and falling with the slow cadence of slumber. He too lay on his side, his back to Yuri and facing the wall. Sleep must've had a firm grip on the blond, for he didn't even twitch from Yuri's shifting atop the mattress, not even when the bedsprings popped and groaned as he slid out from beneath the covers. Coolness tickled Yuri's feet as they came in contact with the paneled wooden floor. He padded over to the window, left open like always, and leaned against the sill. The warmth of the morning sunbeams was quick to chase the chill away as he watched the Lower Quarter begin to come to life. Soon the scent of baking bread drifted by, and his stomach knotted from hunger.

Yuri shifted away from the window, eyes falling once more on the still slumbering Flynn. Today marked a special occasion: the Commandant's birthday. By some miracle Flynn had managed to get these next couple of days off, and Yuri had made sure to plan his own schedule with Brave Vesperia accordingly. Two entire days were theirs to enjoy, free from worry of work, free to do whatever they so pleased. Yuri rummaged through his dresser and clothed himself for the day before departing the room. Outside the crispness of the morning splashed pleasantly over him as he made his way down to the inn to make breakfast. This was one of the few days they had together, and he'd be damned if he didn't make it the best that he could.

A quiet chime of bells at the inn door announced Yuri's entrance. At the counter the innkeeper's wife perked up, greeting him with a pleasant grin. "Well, what a surprise!" she said. "Been a while, hasn't it?"

Yuri returned her smile and stepped over to lean against the counter. "Sure has. Mind if I use the kitchen?"

"Not at all. I'd be happy to have you in there cooking something up. If you need anything, just holler."

Yuri thanked her as he continued through the halls and stepped into the kitchen. He moved about the room with practiced motions, having used it numerous times in the past. Everything was just where he remembered, all the pots and pans and ingredients. He gathered the necessary items for crêpes—his favorite dish, and sure to please Flynn as well. His nerves began to tingle from excitement and anticipation. During his journey around the world all those months ago, he'd had the opportunity to make them on the go, but it just never was the same as traditional methods.

He set to work preparing the batter, humming to himself all the while. The mixture sizzled as he poured it into the skillet when the stove had heated, filling the room with the scent of cooking batter. He prepared one for each of them and stuffed both to the brim with chocolate and strawberries. Even as he cleaned up after himself and departed with crêpes in hand, he continued to hum. It had been some time since he'd been so at ease, so _happy _with the world, and he cherished every minute of this peaceful morning.

Flynn still hadn't woken when he returned to the room, curled up and practically buried beneath the blankets. With a chuckle Yuri stepped over, plate still in one hand, his orchid hair tumbling over his shoulders as he leaned down to brush a hand through Flynn's head of blond curls. He pushed aside some at his forehead to plant the lightest kiss there, lingering for a moment and letting his breath tickle Flynn's skin as he pulled back. Beneath him the blond finally stirred and slowly opened his eyes. He gazed up, his expression still clouded by sleep, but smiled when he realized Yuri stood there.

"Mornin', sunshine," Yuri teased. Flynn murmured something not quite intelligible, eyes threatening to slip closed again. Lightly Yuri ruffled his hair. In response Flynn tried shifting away, pushing lazily at his hand.

"Let me sleep," he mumbled. "I'm tired."

"I know, I know. Just thought I'd let you know there's breakfast waiting for you when you get up."

Flynn perked up a little at that. As he slowly sat up the blanket slid off his shoulders, his hair a tangled mess and eyelids still drooping as he tried to shake the sleep off him. "Breakfast?" he repeated. "What's the occasion?"

"Idiot." Yuri softly rapped his knuckles against Flynn's forehead. "It's your birthday, that's what."

A sound of realization escaped him, his eyes widening a moment later when he caught sight of the crêpes. "Wait, don't tell me you _made_ me breakfast."

He shrugged. "So what if I did? You know I like to cook. I probably would've made 'em anyway, even if it wasn't some special day."

His gaze fell with a little sigh. "You're too nice to me."

"What, are you complaining?" Flynn shook his head, and at that, Yuri straightened. "Alright. Then let's eat."

Familiar sounds and scents drifted through Yuri's window as they ate. He couldn't recall the last time he'd had the chance to just sit in his room and observe the Lower Quarter, laze at the window in the warmth of the sunbeams as breezes whispered by, entangling in his hair and carrying up with it the laughter of children and murmurs of conversation. They took to the streets of the Lower Quarter after breakfast, no destination in mind, content with merely strolling through the cobbled alleys with Repede trailing at their heels. Yuri bought loaves of bread for the children constantly swarming around them, chased them down the alleys sportingly and let laughter spout forth, a cheerful bubbling from deep in his chest unlike anything he'd felt in ages.

He couldn't help laughing again when he reunited with Flynn, who merely shook his head with a smile. "You've hardly changed at all, Yuri."

"Is that a problem?" He rested a hand on his hip, not even attempting to tame his wild, wind-blown hair. His chest still heaved quickly, aching from breathlessness, but it wasn't an unpleasant sensation; he thrived on exhilaration, on adrenaline pumping through his veins.

"Of course not." Flynn reached for his hand and linked their fingers together. "It's just the way I like you. Carefree and selfless."

"Well, for the record, you haven't changed much either."

Flynn gently nudged him before they continued on their way. His grip on Yuri's hand remained firm, and Yuri could feel hints of his pulse every so often against his skin. No matter their differences, no matter how often Flynn grated on his nerves, his presence never failed to fill Yuri with a sense of hope and exuberance.

As they strolled down the streets of the Lower Quarter their pleasant chatter pealed through the air, bright like the sun and teeming with warmth, never seeming to come to an end.


End file.
